


JayDickTober2019

by AlannaofRoses



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, But I made up my own prompts, Drabble Collection, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fictober 2019, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Most can be read as either slash or gen, One Shot Collection, Pre-Slash, Protective Jason Todd, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-11-08 13:27:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20836220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlannaofRoses/pseuds/AlannaofRoses
Summary: Wanted to try my hand at this pairing, and also start gearing up for NaNo'19. So the plan is 31 days of prompts, each with at least 1k words. There will not be any explicit scenes. I'll post further warnings per chapter if necessary, but these will be mostly just angsty hurt and fluffy comfort, or just tooth-rotting fluffy drabbles. Hope you enjoy!If there is one you particularly enjoy, feel free to suggest a continuation, but most of these are complete as-is and will not be pursued further. If these do well, I do have a longer Jay/Dick fic in the works.





	1. Home

Home

Jason wasn’t quite sure what people meant when they referred to home.

There had been a house in Crime Alley, once upon a time. It had been cold, and damp when it rained, and there had always been cockroaches in the bathroom and shouting through the too-thin walls. It had been a place to sleep, to recharge so he could escape back to school in the morning. And then, as he grew older and his father got drunker, it had become a place to avoid. After his mother had died, he’d never gone back.

He supposed the Manor had gotten close, before. Alfred had certainly tried to make Jason welcome. Bruce, too, had done his best at the time, Jason supposed, and his worst was far better than Jason’s biological father’s best. But street rat Jason had never really felt comfortable amid the grandeur of Gotham’s High Society. Now he’d certainly never admit to warm feeling’s towards Bruce’s house.  
The League had certainly never felt like anything more than a place to stay. The austere rooms, the hard mattresses, the constant training. Even if Jason had been in his right mind he doesn’t think it would have been a pleasant place. Not that he really remembers.

After, of course, chasing Bruce and the Joker and revenge, it had been a string of shitty safe houses, each one worse than the last. He barely stayed in one place long enough to sleep, much less make a permanent space of any sort. 

Once he’d officially stopped trying to kill the Bats, he’d more or less kept up with his bouncing around. He knew Bruce could find if he looked hard enough, so it gave him some peace of mind to change addresses often. He did have a few more permanent safe houses that he visited sporadically, mostly when he had a more serious injury. Those were the ones where he actually paid for a soft bed and a state-of-the-art medical kit. 

It was one of these that Dick found him in. He’d gotten a couple of bullet grazes during a gang bust a few nights prior, and he was recuperating with the help of some highly effective antibiotics he’d lifted from the Cave at some point and a copious amount of fresh, home-cooked food, something he didn’t always have time to indulge in. The odd tapping at the window had him reaching for his guns just as Nightwing came tumbling in. 

“Hood!”

Jason groaned. “What are you doing here, Dickwing?”

“Jay, I’m sorry.” Was Dick blushing under the mask? “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“How’d you know this was even the right place?” Jason grumbled.

Dick raised an eyebrow knowingly but didn’t respond, which, fair enough.

“Well, I’m here, I’m not dying, and I’m not interested in company, so just, fly back off and tell DaddyBats to stay out of my business. I’ll burn this place tomorrow.”

“Uh. Yeah. About that.”

“What do you want, Dickface?” Jason growled.

Dick unwound his arm from where it had been bracing his torso.

“Oh shit.” Jason was next to him without even realizing he’d moved, his hands pulling apart the shredded fabric of the Nightwing suit to get at the bloody wound underneath.

Dick swayed alarmingly, and Jason braced him on instinct. “Seriously, Dickface? You couldn’t have led with, ‘by the way, I’m bleeding out’?”

“M’sorry. I didn’t think you’d be here. Was just gonna patch myself up.”

“You are not helping your case, Dickhead. As much as I do not want to spend my night piecing you back together, I would like it even less if your dead body stank up one of my favorite safehouses.” 

“Not…dying.” Dick grunted unhappily as Jason practically carried him into the bathroom and sat him on the closed toilet seat, reaching for the med kit that was already open on the counter.

Dick eyed it suspiciously. “You’re hurt too.” He accused, looking Jason up and down.

“Just a graze.” Jason admitted. “Or two.”

Dick sighed, letting Jason tug the suit down to his waist. “And you have the audacity to grouch at me for not asking for help.”

“Yeah, well you’ve got people to call.” Jason snapped back. He instantly regretted it. He didn’t want Dick’s pity.

Dick just watched him, his face carefully blank as Jason threaded a needle, prepping to stitch him up. “You can call me. If you need someone.”

Jason snorted. “I don’t need the Bat Brigade on my ass every time someone gets in a lucky shot.”

“Just me.” Dick answered.

Jason focused on making neat, precise stitches, hearing Dick’s quiet, sharp breaths as he closed the wound.

“Maybe.”

Dick gave him a brilliant smile in answer.

Jason scowled back. 

He put the remaining suturing tools back into the med kit as Dick watched. “Get yourself cleaned up. I’m gonna heat up some soup.”

He didn’t even wait for Dick’s confirmation before escaping to the kitchen, hiding his feelings in the familiar work of making food.

Eventually, Dick emerged, followed by a cloud of steam and looking much better than when he’d stumbled in.

Jason nodded to the couch, and Dick sat gingerly. After a moment, Jason moved towards him, retrieving the TV remote from its spot and channel surfing for a moment until he found a mindless show for background noise.

The soup began to bubble comfortingly. Dick moved to rise, the idiot.

“Stay down.” Jason ordered, using one hand to push Dick back onto the couch. “I’ll get it.”

Dick looked at him, his mouth curled in an emotion Jason didn’t quite want to classify but that made his chest warm all the same. 

He suddenly thought he understood. 

It was the way Dick laughed as Jason tried to juggle the bowls one-handed. It was the brush of shoulders as Dick reached around him for more napkins. It was the gentle pressure of Dick’s head against his shoulder as the TV droned on. It was the sound of soft snoring when Jason awoke in the middle of the night. 

Jason wasn’t quite sure what people meant when they referred to home. But he thought he might be learning.


	2. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Posted the first chapter on Sept. 30, and the second the Oct. 3. I'm doing so good guys! Hopefully I'll get on track with a regular posting schedule after this. Anyway, #2. Discussion of injuries. Slightly more shippy. Enjoy!

Recovery

“…multiple cracked ribs, mild concussion, broken wrist, and the shrapnel tore up his liver, causing an internal bleed. That was the biggest concern, but we were able to stabilize him fairly easily.”  
Jason moaned as the lights of the Watchtower’s medbay bored into his skull. The nurse listing his injuries fell silent, and Jason sensed movement a moment before a hand stroked back his too-long hair.

“Jaylad?”

“Bru…” Jason couldn’t get his eyes to work. His limbs were weighted with lead. He could feel himself panicking. “D’ck. D’ck!” He tried.

“Jay! Easy, Jaylad, easy!”

There was a sharp prick of pain, and then Jason was gone again.

When he woke up, only his left side felt heavier than usual. He blinked up at the dimmed lights, trying to get his bearings. 

There was someone breathing in his ear.

He flopped his head to the side, the drugs still making movement difficult. What he saw made him smile fondly.

Nightwing was curled into the impossibly small space between Jason and the wall, one leg and one arm wrapped around Jason protectively.

Jason opened his mouth to wake him, but then stopped, the world coming to clarity as if he had just broken the surface of the sea.

Dick looked awful. Dark circles made his eyes look bruised. He was almost as pale as Tim, a rare sight on the naturally tanned acrobat. Jason couldn’t quite get a good perspective from this angle, but he would have placed money on Dick being thinner too.

How long had he been gone?

“Two weeks.”

He turned to see Bruce standing in the doorway, Batman’s cowl pulled back. Dick shifted briefly at the sound of his voice, and Jason soothed him quietly.

Bruce walked to the bed, his steps heavy, his eyes almost as darkly shadowed as Dick’s. “Roy called us.”

Oh god. It had been really bad then.

“He and Artemis were banged up pretty badly, though they are recovering nicely now. They were in over their heads. It took us ten days to track you down, and another three to figure out how to get you out.” He looked down at Dick, his mouth twisted. “I don’t think he slept the whole time.”

Jason looked away.

“Jay,” Bruce sighed heavily. “I know I haven’t been the biggest supporter of the two of you. But if this week taught me anything, it was that you need each other. That’s enough for me.”

Jason blinked.

“Get some rest, Jaylad.” Bruce’s hand touched his cheek, and then Batman swept out of the medbay door.

“Huh.” Dick mumbled into Jason’s shoulder. “Big of him.”

“Hey.” Jason smiled at him.

“Hey yourself.” Dick lifted his head, staring at Jason’s face as if he were trying to memorize it. He tried to return Jason’s grin but it crumpled weirdly around the edges, crumbling into a sob.

“Dickie.” Jason said helplessly, wrapping his arms around the elder as Dick cried into his chest, even in his distress carefully avoiding Jason’s multiple injuries. 

“When Roy called,” Dick wailed, “I thought it was the end. I thought I was going to have to bury you again.”

It was a fair assumption. It would have taken nothing less than absolute disaster for Roy Harper to put everything aside and place that call.

“I’m here, Dick. I’m gonna be okay.”

He rubbed soothing circles into Dick’s back while Dick cried himself out. By the time the sobs turned into sniffles, they were both struggling to keep their eyes open. 

“Sleep, baby.” Jason pressed a kiss to Dick’s forehead. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

~~~~~

Three days in medbay, and Jason was climbing the walls. Even Dick’s near constant company was starting to annoy him. Jason was doing his best not to take anyone’s head off, but he really, really hated recovery. 

Not that getting injured in the first place was fun, either, but pain, Jason could handle. It was the boredom that would kill him.

So when Dick walked in with a bag of Jason’s comfiest clothes, Jason was ready to kiss him right in front of the entire Justice League. And he hated PDA.

Dick helped him into the hoodie, careful not to jostle the broken wrist. “Ready to get out of here?”

“Rao, yes.”

Dick snorted. “Clark kept you company this afternoon?”

“He’s almost more chipper than you.” Jason sniped.

Dick grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Jason reached for him, wrapping his good arm around Dick’s waist. “Hey.”

Dick stopped, looking at him in surprise. “What is it, Jay?”

“You good?” Jason asked.

“Yeah, why?” Dick fiddled with the hoodie strings, such an obvious tell Jason almost rolled his eyes.

“Cause you’re still acting like you think I’m going to keel over if you take your eyes off me.”

Dick flinched.

Jason sighed. He might be the one needing physical recovery, but Dick was going to take a long time to get over this scare. 

“Come here.” He didn’t wait for Dick to comply, just tugged until Dick was standing between his legs, flush against Jason’s chest. “I’m okay. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know.” Dick sighed, relaxing into the embrace, wrapping himself around Jason like the koala he was. 

Jason pressed his lips into dark hair. “Let’s go home.”

~~~~~

They used the front door and everything, Dick helping steady Jason on the stairs as his abdominal stitches protested the climb. 

Dick heated up some chicken soup that Jason had made and frozen for times such as these. The warmth was wonderful after days of hospital food, even if the Watchtower’s menu was better than most. 

Dick put on one of the nature documentaries that Jason loved, even though the acrobat found them hopelessly boring. 

Dick brought out extra pillows from the bedroom to prop Jason up, tucking a blanket around him carefully. 

Dick found some straws to put in Jason’s water, and made sure the ice was crushed, not cubed, and watched obsessively to make sure Jason was drinking.

Finally Jason snapped. “Dick!”

Dick jumped, looking at him with wide eyes.

Jason softened. “Hey. Thank you for taking care of me, okay? But you know what I really need to feel better?”

“Anything, Jay.” 

He patted the cushion next to his hip. “You.”

Dick melted. He padded silently over and curled into Jason’s space, his natural warmth heating Jason’s side perfectly. 

Now he could recover.


	3. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sickfic today. This one is pretty clearly shippy.

Family

Jason was just easing his bedroom window shut when it happened. 

“ACHOO!”

Jason jumped clear out of his skin, slamming against the nightstand and toppling the lamp balanced on it.

He stared at the offending piece in resignation for fifteen seconds before the door opened.

“Hey Alfred.” Jason tried for casual.

The butler raised a reproving eyebrow. “Master Jason, we have doors for a reason. Your desire to give Master Bruce a heart attack notwithstanding, I believe the shingles would appreciate the reprieve.”

“Sorry Alfred.”

“Well,” Alfred sniffed, “I shan’t have to enact any punishment myself. Had you come through the door I would have warned you away. As it is, you are now stuck here for the duration of the quarantine, I’m afraid.”

“ACHOOOOOO!”

“Who’s sick?” 

“Masters Bruce, Tim, and Damian are all quite ill, although Master Bruce’s fever has broken and he is on the mend. Master Dick has so far escaped the contagion, although I doubt he will remain healthy for long.”

“All of them at once? Have you slept at all?”

Alfred hummed noncommittally, enough of an answer itself. Resigned to his fate, Jason followed him into the hallway.

The first thing he saw was Dick, leaning against the wall outside of Damian’s room and rubbing at a suspiciously red nose. 

Dick looked up, spotting them, and beamed. “Jason!”

He had mere seconds to brace himself before the acrobat leapt into his arms, wrapping around him in midair and holding on tight. 

“Hey Dickie. Heard you’ve got a virus goin’ round.”

Dick made a face. “Yeah. It’s a nasty one too. Bruce caught it first and he was feverish for days.” Suddenly he pulled back, his eyes wide. “Jay! Why are you here? Get out! You’ll get sick too!”

“I’m afraid it’s far too late for that Master Dick.” Alfred responded. “Not to mention we could use the extra set of hands in the meantime. I suspect we are about to have another patient on our hands and Master Bruce is not quite up to playing nursemaid yet.”

“Another patient? Alfred, are you getting sick?”

Alfred snorted. “Very funny, Master Dick.” The butler reached out a deft hand and pressed it to Dick’s forehead. Dick squirmed away but Jason tightened his grip, and Alfred frowned.

“You are quite warm, I’m afraid.”

Jason looked at Dick carefully, taking in the red nose, the paler complexion, the fine layer of sweat beading his forehead. “Dickiebird?”

Dick sniffed hopelessly and dropped his head on Jason’s shoulder. “M’not sick.”

“I’m afraid you are, my dear boy.” Alfred said gently. “Fear not. Master Bruce will be up and moving by tomorrow, and Masters Tim and Damian are over the worst. Master Jason can tend to you for the moment, and I suspect we will all be reversing roles soon.” 

Dick didn’t respond, still pouting tiredly into Jason’s shoulder, so Jason just nodded at Alfred and began walking towards Dick’s bedroom, carrying Dick easily to the huge bed. 

Jason dropped Dick gently into the nest of pillows the elder liked to sleep with whenever he couldn’t convince anyone to cuddle with him instead. Just in the few minutes since Alfred had called him out, Dick seemed to have worsened considerably. Jason suspected he’d been feeling badly for hours now, but had continued to push himself so he wouldn’t become another burden for Alfred.

Jason might hate the fact that he was stuck in the Manor for the rest of this mess, and almost guaranteed to get sick himself, but a big part of him was glad that he could take care of Dick for a bit.

They’d gotten better at being vulnerable with one another, but there was something about the whole in sickness and in health thing that really made this relationship feel real. He hated the fact that Dick was in for a miserable few days, but he loved the chance to dote on him while Dick’s walls were stripped away. And he suspected Dick would take advantage of the same situation in a few days when Jason was the one running a fever. 

Dick mewled pathetically from the bed. 

Jason chuckled. “Give me a minute, Dickiebird. I suspect once I let you lure me into your grasp that I won’t be escaping for a while.”

He moved as quickly as he could, first setting up the room itself- a trashcan near the bed in case Dick couldn’t make it to the toilet in time, a collection of pills and a glass of water for the bedside table, and a thermometer from the bathroom so he could keep track of Dick’s temperature. 

Dick watched his preparations with half-lidded eyes, exhaustion clear on his face. 

Finally, all was set up to Jason’s satisfaction. He quickly shucked his jeans and grabbed a pair of Dick’s looser sweatpants instead before climbing into the bed.

Dick curled into him almost instantly, barely giving Jason time to get comfortable before he was half-smothered by his fever-hot lover. 

Dick burrowed deep into his side, his near arm pressing against some bruised ribs Jason was absolutely not going to tell him about. Jason buried his fingers into the dark curls and stroked until he felt Dick relax into boneless slumber, soft breaths puffing against his neck. 

Perfectly content for now, Jason closed his eyes, knowing he’d need his rest so he could take care of Dick through what was sure to be a dismal night. He realized, in the moment between waking and sleeping, that he didn’t mind it at all. He might have been dragged back to this family kicking and screaming, but he’d chosen Dick. Good or bad, healthy or sick, happy or sad, Jason was here. 

His eyes flicked to his jeans, draped over a chair. He could almost imagine a slight bump in the front right pocket. He still wasn’t sure when he’d get up the courage to do it, but he knew he was ready to ask the question. 

Hopefully, he thought, pressing a kiss to the dark head resting on his chest, Dick felt the same.


	4. Ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very shippy. Warning for a brief, passing mention of sexual trauma. Also some serious injuries. Some feels, some angst, some humor, some fluff. Enjoy!

Ring

Or 

5 Times Jason Proposed, And One Time Dick Said Yes

1  
“You’ll be going in as a couple.” Batman said, flicking through documents on the Batcomputer as he outlined their latest plan.

“Really?” Jason said sarcastically, glancing at Dick. 

“A married couple.” Batman amended, rolling his eyes behind the cowl.

Tim, smirking at them, trotted over with a box. Nestled inside were two simple gold bands. 

“Kinda plain, don’t you think?” Dick asked, looking at the rings.

Jason filed that away for future reference.

For now, he tugged the smaller band free from the lining and turned to Dick. Dick raised an eyebrow at him, a mocking invitation.

Jason knelt. “Dickface, will you do me the honor of being my fake husband?”

“Hmmm.” Dick pretended to think. “I suppose I could. As long as it’s fake.”

“Oh happy day!” Jason crowed, slipping the ring on his finger and sweeping his fake fiancé into a passionate kiss.

“Yuck, seriously?” Damian grumbled, entering the cave.

“Get used to it gremlin.” Tim replied. “They do this every time.”

2  
Jason was going to punch someone in the throat in about 5 seconds. 

He’d always known Dick was attractive. He’d be lying if he said it hadn’t been at least a small factor in Jason’s own feelings for the man. He’d had to get used to the attention Dick drew.

But this creep was going too far.

“Breathe, Hood.” Batman’s growl echoed in the comms, and Jason saw Dick glance furtively up at him. The creep touched his arm again, drawing ‘Colin’s’-Dick’s alias for the night- attention back to him. Jason was playing ‘Drew’, Colin’s neglectful boyfriend. They were hoping to get the attention of one of the new gang runners who frequented this bar and drive ‘Colin’ right into their arms. 

So far, the only person trying to take advantage of Colin’s sudden loneliness was Wilber the Creep, as Jason had dubbed him. 

“This isn’t working.” Jason growled. He’d always hated the way Dick sometimes used his body to get what he wanted, as if it was just another tool in his arsenal, when Jason knew Dick had trauma associated to that. Dick had assured him he could handle it, and that he felt perfectly safe with Jason watching his back.

So Jason turned away for a moment, clenching his fists and taking deep breaths to sooth the rage rising in his throat.

“…I’m sure he won’t mind…”

Jason spun around in a flash, because if creep’s voice was coming through the comm’s that meant he was way too close to Dick… a smack carried echoed through his earpiece, followed almost instantly by Dick’s cry of shock.

“To hell with this.” Jason snarled, running to his boyfriend, ignoring Bruce in his ear. That creep had just smacked Dick’s ass. This was over.

Jason inserted his impressive bulk between Dick and the creep. Wilber looked furious for all of 2 seconds before his eyes travelled up Jason’s massive body and the douche ran with his tail between his legs. 

Dick pressed against him, and Jason could feel tremors running through the lithe body.

“Hey, hey.” Jason soothed, gripping his wrist gently. “You’re okay.”

Dick was staring in shock at the countertop. “He asked me to marry him.” He croaked, nodding at the box sitting there.

Jason snatched it up, snapping the lid closed on the ugly bauble. 

“So tell him to get lost.” He snarled, still fuming. “I’m the only one allowed to marry you.”

Dick blinked up at him, a faint smile softening his pale features. “Is that a proposal?”

Jason felt like he’d been dumped in ice water. “Uh…”

Dick’s mouth twitched, and he pressed closer. “Cause, I don’t think I’d mind that.”

3  
“Ah, Paris. The city of love.” Dick sighed.

“Yeah. Real pretty.” Jason joked, staring out the window at runways and plane wings.

“Thought that counts?” Dick shot back, flipping through his magazine.

“Everyone knows airports don’t count, Dickie. You have to actually set foot in the city for it to count as a visit.”

Dick sighed again. “I still don’t see why Bruce couldn’t have given us an extra day.”

“You know why. Cass is coming home for Christmas and we’re all gonna be there.”

“First time in forever.” Dick smiled at him.

“Yeah.” Jason sometimes felt guilty about that. He’d pushed them all away for so long. He knew it had hurt them, Dick, Bruce, and Alfred especially. He still wasn’t on the best of terms with Bruce, but he’d vowed to never miss another Alfred Pennyworth hosted Christmas.

“You know,” Dick said, his voice coy, “this is one of the best couples destinations in the world. I wonder how many people have gotten engaged here?”

“Veux-tu m'épouser?” Jason said, wriggling his eyebrows.

Dick just laughed. “Hmmm.” He hid his grin behind his magazine. “You said it didn’t count unless we were in the city.”

4  
Jason swung Dick around as they circled the dance floor, Dick smirking at him as they waltzed. 

Jason’s earpiece crackled.

“Boys, I need you to make a distraction.”

Bruce Wayne was officially out of the country on business, so Dick and Jason were attending this gala alone. However, Batman and Robin had received work that the Riddler was targeting this specific ball because of one of the host’s extracurricular dealings. The costumed heroes were outside on the rooftop, waiting for the Rogue to make his move. 

“A distraction, you say.” Jason said, knowing Batman could hear the grin in his tone.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Batman growled.

“Oh, I wasn’t planning on it.” Jason shot back, deftly picking the pocket of a passing waiter without losing a beat of the dance. Dick was biting his lip to keep from laughing.

Jason maneuvered them into the middle of the floor, disrupting just enough people that by the time they got there they were the center of attention.

Jason spun Dick out until they were touching only by their fingertips, and then wrapped him back in as he dropped to one knee smoothly.

Dick’s look was a mix of shock, horror, and giddy hysterics.

“Dick Grayson!” Jason projected his voice, drawing the attention of anyone not already looking at him. “Love of my life, beauty beyond compare, my angel.” 

Damian gagged through the comms. 

Dick was barely keeping a straight face, his face as red as Jason’s hood. 

“Marry me.” Jason held out the napkin ring dramatically.

This time Dick did lose it, bending in half as he cracked up, holding his hand out and nodding approval.

Jason placed the ridiculously large ring on Dick’s finger, giggling to himself as it swallowed the acrobat’s hand.

“We’re in.” Batman said dryly.

“That’s our cue.” Jason grinned. Without warning, he swept Dick into a bridal carry and departed the ballroom, leaving behind a roomful of shocked partiers. 

5  
Jason groaned as the rubble around them shifted. Pinned as he was, every movement of the rocks sent shockwaves through his damaged body. Dick blinked blearily up at him. 

“You okay?”

Jason snorted. Only Dick could ask after Jason’s wellbeing at a time like this.

“I’m better than you are, Dickie.”

The one remaining light flickered and spluttered, casting a glow on the spreading pool of blood under Dick’s torso. At the rate he was bleeding, Jason knew he had less than an hour for help to arrive.  
Jason would last slightly longer, as all his bleeding was still internal. It was the shock that would kill him. That and losing Dick.

He tightened his hand in the dark curls. Dick was the reason he’d come back. The one who kept him sane. The one he loved, even if the words were hard to say.

“Dickie.”

“Hmmm.” Dick’s voice was getting weaker. Jason’s chest was tight in a way that had nothing to do with the rubble pining him. 

“Marry me.”

“What?” Dick sounded abruptly awake. “Jay?”

“Marry me, Dickie.” Jason said desperately. 

“No.”

Jason was surprised he didn’t die there and then from the pain that flooded him.

“Jay.” Dick was gripping his wrist tight, drawing his attention. “I’m not going to marry you cause you think we’re dying. We lie dangerous lives. We always knew this was a possibility. A probability really.” He stopped to cough, blood bubbling from his lips. Jason blinked back tears.

“Ask me again.”

“What?” It was Jason’s turn to be surprised.

Dick smiled comfortingly. “Ask me again when you’re ready. We are going to survive this. We are going to get married, and adopt some kids, and make Damian babysit them.”

Jason chuckled. 

“Ask me again someday, Jay.” Dick’s eyes closed, and he slumped weightless.

“Dickie! Dickie?” 

No answer.

“I love you, Dick.” Jason hid his tears in Dick’s hair and prayed for rescue.

+1  
Jason couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. His right front pocket was on fire, burning a hole through his leg, but he couldn’t… 

“Yes.”

Jason inhaled, gasping desperately as air filled his starving lungs. After a moment, he turned to look at Dick, who was leaning casually against the rail, smiling at him knowingly. “What?”

“Yes. Was there ever any doubt?”

“Uh.” Jason could feel his ears getting red, and he rubbed the back of his neck, shuffling his feet. “No?”

Dick straightened and walked towards him, close enough that they were almost touching. 

“You remember what I told you?”

Jason brushed a hand against Dick’s waist, where he knew the ropey scar from that awful day lay just hidden by his shirt. “You said to ask you again.”

Dick smiled. “Jason, I’ve been ready for a while now. It’s you who needed time.” He lifted Jason’s chin until he could meet his eyes. “I love you, Jason Todd. Yes.”


	5. Claustrophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is late, I promise I wrote it yesterday, I just didn't have access to WiFi. This one is back to more gen territory.   
I also keep meaning to let y'all know, I won't be replying to comments on this fic for now. I am struggling just to get the stories written, plus prepping for NaNo and finishing Come Home (I'm almost done with Ch.10, I promise). I don't have the extra time or energy to moderate comments too. Please know that I see all of them and they keep me going when the writing gets tough. Thank you all for your support and love!

Claustrophobia

Red Hood tested his bonds for the thirty-second time, despite knowing it was useless. 

Across the 5 foot cell, Nightwing smirked at him for the thirty-first time. 

“Shut up, Wing.” Jason snapped. By his estimate they had been trapped in this tiny cell for half an hour, and his claustrophobia was starting to become a problem. 

Dick had done his best, Jason knew. Nightwing was curled into as small a space as possible against his own restraints. He had alternated joking and provoking to keep Jason off balance so he wouldn’t start panicking. 

It wouldn’t be enough for much longer. 

They had two options if Jason snapped. One, he got angry. Pit Rage in a 5x5 with another person was not going to end well. Jason didn’t even want to think about the damage he could do to Dick if that was where his mind went. Option two wasn’t much more fun, though, considering that was the one where Jason disassociated from panic and completely freaked. He was more a danger to himself with that option, although he’d still lash out at anything that got in his way until he hyperventilated enough to pass out. 

Option two also left Dick alone with an unconscious Red Hood and an army of furious mercenaries outside the door. 

Jason tested his bonds for the thirty-third time. 

This time, Nightwing’s look was worried. “Breathe, Hood.”

“I can’t.” Jason’s voice and something deep in his chest broke at the same time. He could feel his heartrate speeding up. His head began to spin as he sucked in air frantically. 

He wasn’t sure how much time he lost, but suddenly there were gentle hands on his shoulders.

“It’s okay Jay. Breathe for me Little Wing. In…Out…”

Jason followed Dick’s calm, slow instructions until the room came back into focus, as small as ever, but infinitely better with Dick pressed close. 

“How?” Jason croaked.

“Uh, you don’t want to know.” Dick said with a casual shrug.

Jason closed his eyes in resignation, knowing he couldn’t do anything about whatever joint Dick had dislocated right now. 

“Thank you.”

“Always, Little Wing.” Dick smiled at him fondly. “Rest now. Bruce should be here soon.”

“Mmm.” Jason groaned, leaning over until his head rested on Dick’s shoulder, closing his eyes tight against the walls closing him in. “And what happened to the plan where he took out the guys before they managed to lock us up?”

Dick’s voice was fondly amused. “You know why that wouldn’t have worked. First of all, there were way too many of them to ambush, and secondly, even if Batman could have taken them all out, we couldn’t have connected them to the boss if they didn’t make it to the headquarters. I said I could do this part alone, but you were against that plan, if I recall correctly.”

“Well, yeah.” Jason groused. “You’re an awful captive. You don’t know when to shut up. They start punching you ten minutes in just to make you quit talking.”

“Actually my record is seven and a half minutes.”

Jason let the glacial silence go on for several minutes. “Not making me feel better, DickWing.”

Dick chuckled, jiggling Jason’s head.

He opened his eyes to reproach his boyfriend. 

It was a mistake.

He took a deep breath as the cell seemed to shrink to half its size. 

Dick stilled under him. “Still with me, Hood?”

“Keep talking.” Jason gasped, pressing his face into Dick’s chest firmly. “Please.”

A firm, grounding hand gripped the back of his neck. “Did I tell you that Robin was cast in his school play?”

Jason focused on the thumb rubbing gentle strokes against his nape.

“Yeah, apparently his teacher thought he did a great job reading Shakespeare when they covered it in British Lit. I knew you had had a hand in the kid’s latest reading choices. Anyway, they are doing a kid-friendly version of Twelfth Night. He’s Duke Orsino.”

“…if MUsic BE the FOOD of LOVE play ON…” Jason chanted softly.

“That’s the one. He’s been practicing his lines all over. He was even doing them under his breath on patrol the other day. Of course, if anyone asks he claims that the juvenile interpretation is ridiculous and not worth his time. Still, I’m pretty sure he’s just waiting to give all of us tickets once he figures out how to ask us to come without, you know, asking us to come.”

Jason snorted.

“I bet I can get a ticket for you if you wanna go. You can pretend I dragged you along, and Robin can pretend you only came for me, and both of you can keep your pride and have a great night.”

“Does he have to wear a ridiculous costume?”

Dick laughed. “Yup.”

“I’m in.”

“You know, that’s what Red Robin said too.”

“Smart kid.”

“You know, the goal of going is to support Robin? Give him a chance to have a normal kid experience like inviting his family to see his cringy school play?”

“Cringy? It’s Shakespeare, Wing!”

“Done by middle schoolers.” Dick deadpanned.

“Fair point.” 

A sudden sound had them both on alert, Dick’s hand stilling. Jason strained his hearing, trying to determine what was going to happen next. If it meant getting out of this box, he’d be grateful, even if he had to fight off the entire mercenary army to keep that freedom.

The door rattled, and Dick pulled away, rising to a crouch, prepared to defend them.

Jason rattled his bonds for the thirty-fourth time. 

The door swung open.

“Let’s go.” Robin stood outlined in the doorway, his bright costume sending relief flooding Jason’s chest.

Robin tossed a set of keys to Dick, and Dick made quick work of the hated restraints.

Jason took note of the slight wince as he used his left arm.

As soon as he was free, Jason charged out the door, barely missing Robin as he rushed headlong for freedom. He took deep gulps of air as Dick finished up and came out behind him.

A moment later, a solid weight was pressed into Jason’s hand, and he wrapped his fingers around his favorite gun.

Dick gave him a wicked grin as he flipped his escrima sticks. “Ready for some poetic vengeance, Hood?”

“Absolutely.”


	6. Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is a new format for me. I don't really do songfics, so tell me if it was okay? Also, this is much more of an abstract piece than I've been doing lately so I hope it's still enjoyable.
> 
> Hmm, today is all the feels. It's pretty gen I guess right up to the end where there is a pretty clear bit of shippy content. I'm getting this one in right under the wire, but I'm back on track!

Flowers

_He flies through the air with the greatest of ease…_

The apartment was silent. It was the kind of quiet that really only occurred on one particular day. Bruce had one. Tim had observed his for a few years. Jason was grateful that Damian had been spared this type of anniversary. For Dick it was April 1st. The day the Flying Graysons fell. 

_…the daring young man on the flying trapeze…_

For now, Dick laid against Jason’s chest, silent and still after a brief round of tears. Dick had told him once that the waking up was the worst part of the day. Waking up and realizing he’d spent another year without them. That they would never see him as he was now. In just a few years, Dick would be older than his parents had ever gotten to be.

_…his movements are graceful…_

Jason always specifically cleared April 1st of all events and obligations. Dick pushed himself to his limits the rest of the year, and Jason had long ago decided that Dick deserved one day to himself. He deserved to be able to grieve in peace. 

_…he tries hard to please…_

They had found a sort of routine over the past couple of years. When Dick was ready to get up, they ate a light breakfast and Jason grabbed a couple of bags he’d packed the day before. Jason drove the motorcycle, Dick wrapped around him from behind. He always went just a little faster than strictly necessary. 

_…I know that he must be the best._

Their first stop was always the aerial gym. Jason suspected Bruce might have had a hand in making sure Dick always had access to the only place with a full trapeze rigging anywhere near Bludhaven. While Dick used it sporadically throughout the year, this was the one fixed time.

_He floats through the air…_

There was a net. As a younger man, Dick had argued against it. Jason was glad he’d stopped. He hadn’t seen the Grayson’s fall, but Jason had had enough nightmares about Dick following them that he was grateful Dick had agreed to the safety precaution. 

_…doing turns like a bird…_

Dick always flew for about an hour. He would warm up easily before moving into the routine he had done since childhood. If he did the routine that his parents had never completed, Jason never commented on it. If he cried as he flew, well, Jason never commented on that either. He did both every year.

_…he flies without wings…_

When Dick finished, he used the gym’s facilities to shower. Then it was back on the bike and into Gotham. Jason pulled into the park and unpacked one of the bags. Sometime after they had gotten serious, Dick had pressed something into Jason’s hands. Jason had blinked down at the worn leather book. _‘My mother’s recipes.’_ Dick had said quietly. _‘I can’t cook at all, but I figured someone should use them.’ _

_…at least that’s what I’ve heard…_

Jason didn’t use them often, as on regular days they could be a double-edged sword, depending on Dick’s mental state at that moment. But on April 1st, Jason went all out. Dick had told him, after the first year, that for a moment, biting into his mother’s food, he had been back at the circus, 9 years old and preparing to fly with his parents.

_…he flips and he flies…_

When lunch is finished and packed away, they go to the florist. It’s not one of the fancy ones. It’s a little store, tucked away on a street corner. Dick had saved the owner way back in his first year as Robin. He had told Jason once that using that store for the flowers felt like he was honoring the person that his parent’s death had allowed him to become. His parents might have died, but Robin had been able to save so many lives. It didn’t soothe the ache of their death, but it helped a little.

_…high above you and I…_

Finally, they reach the Manor. The mood there is subdued too. Alfred holds Dick for a long minute in the doorway. Bruce is next, letting Dick cling to him as long as his child needs, a show of affection that is rare when there is no injury involved. 

_…I wonder when he will come down._

Tim had always been good for Dick on this day. He stays close to Dick, not hovering or pressuring, just always in contact, always in reach. He understands, in a way the others sometimes don’t, that Dick just wants his family close today.

_He catches the bar in only one hand…_

Damian is awkward, though he tries. The kid isn’t good with emotions, and Dick is his hero. It’s hard to see him grieving. Still, Damian lets Dick cuddle him close, and doesn’t squirm away from the affection. Cass doesn’t say anything, doesn’t join the Robin pile that quickly forms. Still, Dick smiles at her gratefully as she brings him a cup of Alfred’s hot chocolate. She kisses his forehead and makes the sign for _‘I love you’._ Dick signs it back.

_…he must be the bravest in all of the land…_

At last, it’s time. They all go together, Alfred handing out extra layers against the late afternoon chill. They walk out to the cemetery, Jason and Bruce on either side of Dick, the kids and Alfred just behind. The double headstone is well maintained, along with the whole family tree of Gotham Waynes who lie buried here. 

_…he flips and he turns…_

The flowers lay in silent tribute to John and Mary Grayson. One by one they pay their respects. Alfred and Bruce leave first, making their slow way back to the Manor. Tim and Cass leave together, tucked close against the wind. Damian is next, squeezing Dick’s hand in comfort before trotting away, his cheeks red against the chill. 

_…oh where did he learn…_

They stay for a long time. Dick talks to the stones, about his year, about Nightwing, about Bruce. He tells them how the kids are growing up, Tim as CEO and Damian getting a role in a school play and Cass advancing a reading level. He’s crying by the time he displays the ring on his left hand, promising his parents he’ll save them seats at the wedding. 

_…to fly the way that he does?_

Jason holds him tight as night falls around them. Dick cries himself to sleep as the clock ticks over to a new day. Jason lifts him easily to carry him back to the Manor, where they will stay the night before returning to Bludhaven in the morning. He hesitates for a moment, poised to leave. He turns back to the headstones. _‘Thank you. For your son.’_ He murmurs. Jason kisses his fingertips and presses the to the cold stone of Mary Grayson’s tomb. Then he takes Dick home.


	7. Human Shield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm sorry in advance. On the other hand, I gave you three chapters at once so don't kill me maybe? They all connect, but it also filled three of my prompts and split into three nice 1k chunks so. Shippy at the end of this one and in the next two. Very dark and angsty. You've been warned.
> 
> TW: blood, disassociative state, violence

Human Shield

They had been searching for Tim for a week. Ra’s Al Ghul had left a dead robin and an open window when he had taken Dick’s little brother. Dick was going to make him pay. 

Batman and Robin were out with the League. Dick had sent them a message, but it was a 50/50 chance Bruce would even get it in time to be of use. So Dick was going it alone, unwilling to wait on the possibility of backup in favor of getting Tim out of Ra’s clutches as soon as possible.

The League’s latest hideout was about an hour outside of Gotham. Obviously whatever Ra’s had needed Tim for was not secret enough to warrant a trip to Nanda Parbat. That or he was deliberately luring the bats in. Dick wasn’t playing any games with his brother’s life, though. Not after the dead robin warning. 

He had just reached the location where Tim was supposedly being held when another figure dropped down beside him. 

“Hood, what are you doing here?” Dick growled. “We agreed you’d stay away from this one.”

Jason didn’t respond, merely held out his hand. A dead robin lay perfectly preserved in his glove.

Dick shuddered.

Jason grimaced. “I’ve been invited, apparently. Bats said I should come, lest Ra’s thinks I’m blowing him off.”

Dick had to admit that it made sense, even if he didn’t like it.

“Fine. But Red Robin is priority one, okay? No revenge on Ra’s, and no starting unnecessary fighting with his ninjas? Let’s do this bloodless if we can. Ten to one Ra’s just wants to borrow Red’s brain again and forgot how to ask.”

Jason nodded. “You’re the boss, Wing.”

A few minutes to revise the plan, and Nightwing and Red Hood strode casually into the League’s home away from home.

It was an open floor plan, bare to the point of spartan. The only décor in sight was a nicely trussed Red Robin chained to the floor.

Dick never took his eyes off of Ra’s Al Ghul, but he knew next to him Jason was scanning Tim for injury. 

“Ah.” Ra’s intoned as they approached. “If it isn’t my fourth and sixth favorite Bats.” 

Dick stared him down. “You sent your invitation. We came. What do you want, Demon?”

Ra’s raised an eyebrow. “Straight to the point. How unlike you Nightwing. Very well. Our little bird here,” Ra’s began circling Tim, “has been very naughty as of late. And you know what I do to those who disobey me.” He stopped, looking down at them through hooded eyes. “So I’ve invited you here to kill him for me.”

“What?” Dick felt like he’d missed the last step, his foot falling through space. 

“Or rather,” Ra’s chuckled, “I’ve invited him here to kill a robin.” The Demon’s Head pointed at Jason.

Dick smirked at Ra’s, trying to regain control of the situation. “He’s not yours anymore, Ra’s. And he doesn’t kill bats.”

“We’ll see.” Ra’s did something with his hands, his layers of clothing rustling.

Jason clapped his hands over his ears, dropping to his knees. 

“Hood?” Dick stared at Jason, trying to figure out what was happening.

Tim was swinging wildly in the chains, his face under the gag screwed up in panic.

Ra’s and his men were filing out of the building in a stately hurry. Dick’s hands curled into fists as he fought the urge to follow them. 

Jason’s mouth opened in a silent scream, his fingers digging into his head hard enough to draw blood.

“Hood!”

“Stay away, Dick!” Tim called suddenly. He had finally worked the gag off. Now he was still in the chains, his face bloodless as he watched Jason. “It’s the Pit! Ra’s is trying to make him go Mad!”

It was working. Jason was writhing, his eyelids fluttering. Flashes of acid green glittered in his gaze. 

“How?” Dick asked desperately.

“Some kind of sonar device?” Tim said. “It mimics the frequency of the Pit. He’ll be totally brainwashed as long as the sound is on. And Ra’s will have it heavily guarded, you’ll never get it in time.” His eyes were wide with fear.

Dick hurried to Tim, tugging at the bonds. “We’ve gotta get you out of here, Red. Where’s the key?”

“Ra’s had it.” Tim shook his head. “Dick, you have to go.”

“No.” Dick tugged a lockpick from his belt, trying to angle his shaking fingers correctly. 

Tim was practically in tears. “Dick, please. Don’t watch. He can’t disobey. Please…Dick LOOK OUT!”

Something slammed into Dick’s head from behind and he reeled, stumbling into Tim as the world went white. There was a roaring in his ears. 

“Dick!” Tim was screaming. “Dick, move! Jason no!”

The second blow did knock him to the floor. Dick lay, gasping, his head exploding, directly between Jason and the still-bound Tim. Jason’s eyes were completely green. He had paused, as if waiting for Dick to move so he could finish his mission.

“Please Dick.” Tim sobbed. “Just go. It’s okay.”

Dick took a deep breath. “Yeah, Timmy. Yeah, it’s gonna be okay.” 

He stood, his legs shaking as he drew himself to his full height, blocking Tim behind him. “You want him, Jason? You’re going to have to go through me.”

There was a flicker, the tiniest hesitation as something deep inside Jason fought for a moment. 

It vanished.

“No.” Tim breathed behind Dick, his voice breaking.

Dick braced himself.

Jason swung out. Dick dodged, barely. “Jason.”

He couldn’t quite escape the next blow, and something snapped above his heart. “Jason.”

A third blow dropped him to his knees. “Jason.” 

And then the world was green and pain and the sound of someone screaming. 

Dick just kept saying it until he didn’t even remember why, just clung to the mantra like a lifeline. “Jason. Jason. Jason.” 

He said it until he couldn’t anymore.

His voice was gone. 

He reached out with blue-striped fingers for his lover.

Blood.

Pain.

Darkness.


	8. Dragged Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connects to the previous prompt. Shippy. Dark and angsty. 
> 
> TW: blood, ghosts, language

Dragged Away

“You’ve done well.” Ra’s said. “Not the bird I wanted dead, but a dead bird all the same.”

Jason felt like he was swimming in jello. Something was wrong. His head… had he been sleeping? Unconscious? 

There was blood on his hands.

There was a body on the floor. 

A body dressed in black and blue, a set of fingerstripes still outstretched towards Jason, as if their owner had been reaching for him in their last moments.

Jason came back to himself in a sickly rush, the smell of blood thick in the air. Ra’s was still talking, but Jason wasn’t hearing a word. He was staring at Dick. Dick whose eyes were closed. Dick whose chest was still. Dick, whose blood was still drying on Jason’s hands.

“Take him away.” Ra’s waved a hand.

Jason hung limp between the two guards as they dragged him out. There was no fight left. They could kill him if they wanted. He was already dead.

Tim’s cries of grief were the last thing Jason heard.

He was taken to some sort of cell. It was as bare as the rest of the place, four walls and a door. A tomb. 

Jason slumped in the corner, his eyes unfocused as he stared into space.

Watching it over and over, his imagination supplying what his memory couldn’t. 

Dick.

Dick taking the blows, and had he not fought back? Jason didn’t have an offensive wound on him. The self-sacrificing idiot. 

Jason had always told him he was going to get killed someday, throwing himself into danger like he did.

Well, it had happened.

It had happened at Jason’s hand, Jason’s face the last thing Dick had seen as he had beaten his fiancé to death. 

Pit mad or not, Jason would never, could never, forgive himself that. 

He hoped no one came to rescue him.

He wanted to see the body.

Would they bury Dick with his parents? Was he with them now?

He wanted to bury his face in Dick’s cold shoulder and beg forgiveness. 

Would Dick be able to see Jason from the other side?

He wanted Dick back.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, numb and still. Long enough to put his legs to sleep. Long enough to stiffen completely. Long enough for the blood to dry into the cracks of his hands.

The door groaned.

Jason turned away. “Leave me.”

No response.

“Please.” His voice broke. “Just go away.”

“Jay…”

He turned around so fast he got vertigo. There was a ghost, or an apparition, or a spirit in the doorway. Black and blue and fingerstripes. And blood, so much blood. 

It was reaching for him.

Jason flinched back, his head cracking against the cell wall.

Fingers brushed his arm. Solid fingers. 

All of the air went out of Jason’s lungs.

“Jay?”

“Dickie.” He surged forward, wrapping his arms around the bloodied figure. Dick came willingly, folding into Jason’s chest. “Dickie, thank fuck. You’re alive. Fuck. I thought I killed you.”

He was crying, holding Dick so tight he was probably hurting the smaller man but unwilling to let go. He pressed kisses against Dick’s neck and shoulder and cheek, whispering ‘I love you, I’m so sorry, I love you’ over and over into his skin because he’d almost lost the chance to say it. 

Dick just rested against him, letting Jason take the weight and the comfort he needed. 

Jason caught a glimpse of Tim through the open cell door as the boy peered in to check on them. Tim’s eyes softened when he saw Dick and Jason clinging to each other. A moment later, Tim vanished and Jason saw a brief flash of black cape and dismissed everything outside the cell from his mind.

Dick was here, alive. Batman could deal with the rest of the cleanup.

“Are you okay?” Jason asked when he’d finally caught his breath.

“I’m okay.” Dick reassured him softly. “Passed out pretty hard, but apparently Ra’s was satisfied? I’m still not sure what his game was.”

“I thought you were dead.” Jason choked, burying his face in Dick’s shoulder. “I thought I’d killed you. It was like my worst nightmare, waking up like that with your blood on my hands.”

“I’m alive.” Dick said firmly. “Although, I think I need to go see Leslie.” He winced. “Yeah, I should probably go see Leslie, like, right now.”

Jason caught him as Dick’s legs went out from under him. “Dick!”

“M’ok.” Dick slurred, dropping his head onto Jason’s arm. “Just need to…sleeeep.”

“Fuck. No, stay with me, Dick. TIM!”

Footsteps, then Tim’s white face around the doorway. There was blood on his costume. Dick’s blood. The blood that was on Jason’s hands. The blood that Jason had spilled. 

“He needs,” Jason started, sobbed, tried again, “he needs Leslie. Now, Tim, hurry.”

Tim fled, shouting for Bruce.

Jason made for the door, Dick limp in his arms, eyes blurred with tears.

“Live, dammit.” He begged the still form in his arms. “Live and I’ll never ask for anything again. Just don’t leave me. Don’t leave me Dickie.”

The Batmobile was idling outside, Bruce waiting in the front seat, Damian scrambling out to open the back door, his face blanching as he saw Dick in Jason’s arms.

Jason laid his precious burden in the backseat of the Batmobile, allowing himself to smooth back Dick’s dark curls one last time.

‘I’m so sorry Dickie. I love you.’ 

“Go!” He yelled at Bruce as Damian cradled Dick’s head in his lap.

The Batmobile tore away. Jason watched it go.

He waited until it was out of sight to open his fist. Inside sat a simple gold chain with a single occupant. A ring, with a single round diamond bracketed by two larger oval ones, as if the stones were about to take flight from the band. 

Since the moment Jason had put it on Dick’s finger, the other man had never taken it off, wearing it on the chain under the neck of the Nightwing suit when on patrol.

Until now.

Jason had made a promise.

Dick would live. And Jason would never ask for anything else.


	9. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connects to the last two prompts. Dark, angsty, ship-heavy. 
> 
> TW: nightmare, zombies, lots of crying

Nightmare

When Dick woke, it was to the constant, steady beeping of a heart monitor, and one very asleep hand.

For a long time, he lay perfectly still, trying to get his eyes to focus. Everything felt fuzzy, distant. He didn’t have the energy to move his head even a little. Even blinking was a challenge, trying to get his eyes to reopen when they closed.

He’s not sure he succeeds every time, time slipping like sand through his fingers. 

Has it been five minutes or five hours since he had come back to awareness?

Finally, his eyes open and he can move a little. He turns his head towards the hand that is asleep. For a moment he just stares, because where his hand should be, there is instead a head of dark hair smooshed into the covers.

“Timmy.” His voice is barely there, weak and cracking with effort. It’s enough.

The dark head jerks, and Tim sits up in one sudden motion. He looks exhausted, his eyes black holes in his drawn face. “Dick.”

Dick tries for a smile.

Tim covers his face with his hands.

Shit. “Timmy.”

“Sorry.” 

“C’mere.”

Tim did, slithering onto the bed next to Dick. “Sorry, it’s just…”

“Timmy.” Dick said helplessly.

“I thought you were dead.” Tim’s shoulders shake harder, rocking the bed with their force. 

Somehow, Dick finds the strength to lift his hand and rest it on Tim’s dark hair. It only makes Tim cry harder, and Dick waits out the storm, clinging to consciousness with all the stubborn will he inherited from Bruce Wayne.

Finally Tim settles, his sobs fading into quiet sniffles. “I’m sorry.”

“S’ok, Timmy.” Dick kisses his temple weakly. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.” Tim sniffs hard. “But you will be. Leslie patched you up.” He looked Dick over, his lip twitching into what could pass as a smile. “Go to sleep, Dick.”

Given permission, Dick faded into peaceful oblivion almost instantly, his last thought that something important was missing, but he couldn’t remember what.

In the dream, Ra’s stand over Jason. Ra’s eyes are acid green, his hands drenched in blood. 

“You would claim this creature?” Ra’s snarls. “He is mine!” 

Jason rises, his eyes blank and dead, the gaping wounds on his body now bloodless, ugly scars.

Dick tries to run, but his feet are stuck. The zombie-like Jason figure approaches at a shamble.

“Jason!”

The zombie hits him. Dick lands awkwardly, pain exploding throughout his body. The zombie beats him over and over and over, until Dick is sure he must be dead. Ra’s stands over him, smiling evilly.

“He is mine.” Ra’s grabs the chain around Dick’s neck and pulls, snapping the links. The gold ring clinks against the floor, once, twice, three times and rolls away. “You will never have him!”

Dick wakes screaming.

He grabs for the chain at his neck.

It’s gone.

“JASON!” 

Alfred tells him later he woke the whole house with his shriek, that they had all ended up in the med bay, that Bruce had been practically sitting on him to get him to stop thrashing. Dick remembered none of it.

Until finally, finally something reached him.

“Dickie.”

“Jay.” It came out on a sob.

There was a calloused thumb against his cheek, a grounding hand wrapped around his wrist. “I’m here.” Jason’s voice broke. 

“Jason, I lost the ring!” Dick wailed. “I lost it Jay and Ra’s took it and he can’t have you, you’re mine, Jay, please don’t go!”

“Dickie!” Jason’s eyes were huge. “Dickie, I… I have the ring.” He pulled the chain from his pocket slowly.

Dick reached for it with a lunge, his fingers closing around the cool metal and clutching it to his chest. He sucked in air, trying to catch his breath.

“Where was it?”

“I… Dickie, I took it.” Jason admitted.

“Why?” Dick’s voice was small, hurt.

“I didn’t think you’d want it anymore.” 

“It’s not your fault.”

“I killed you.” 

“No you didn’t.”

“I thought I had.” Jason covered his face. “I thought I had.”

Dick slipped the ring from the chain and put it back on his finger, his whole body relaxing as the familiar weight settled. “Jason.” He waited until Jason was looking at him. “I know you would never hurt me on purpose. What Ra’s did to you, what he made you do, is awful. But it wasn’t your fault. I still want you. I will always want you.”

Jason bent in half. “I don’t deserve you. You lived. You lived and I can’t ask for anything else.”

“Then don’t ask.” Dick replied. “Just say ‘I do’.

Jason shattered. Dick tugged at him until Jason complied and curled up beside him on the bed. Jason wrapped around him, his face buried in Dick’s shoulder. He cried for a long time.

By the time Jason finally quieted, Dick could feel the pain medicine wearing off. Everything hurt, and he was so tired, but every time he blinked he saw the zombie figure coming towards him again.

Jason felt him flinch.

“Dickie?”

“Hurts.” Dick said shortly, trying to keep his breathing steady. 

“Here.” Jason shifted smoothly, propping himself up on the pillows and sliding his arm under Dick’s shoulders, tucking them both around until Dick was lying half on top of Jason in a slightly reclined position that took the pressure off his injured torso and chest. 

He sighed happily. “Thanks, Jay.”

Jason was quiet for a long moment. “I’m sorry, Dick.”

Dick shook his head. “No. It wasn’t you, Jay. It happened, and it was terrible, but you are here. The real you. Nothing else matters.”

Jason sighed and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Then I’m here, Dickie. As long as you want me to be.”

“Forever.” Dick mumbled, already half-asleep. His left hand rested above Jason’s heart, the gold ring sparkling at him in comfort. 

He drifted away to the steady beat of Jason’s heart.

He didn’t have a single nightmare.


	10. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have some fluffy comfort after all that angst. :)
> 
> Also, my apologies for the late updates, I have been at RenFest all weekend. I will try to catch up.
> 
> Warnings for Jason's mouth. Also pretty shippy.

Reunion

It had been another shitty night in a long string of shitty nights. Jason had taken out a good number of drug dealers tonight. Unfortunately, one of them had gotten in a lucky shot as well. 

He had a nasty gunshot wound across his arm that was limiting his mobility. He’d been mostly living across town, as far away from the Bats as possible, but tonight he decided to just crash at his nearest.

He had just gotten through the window when he remembered why he’d been avoiding this particular safehouse. 

The last time he’d been here, Dick had been too. They’d patched each other’s injuries, and Dick had offered a helping hand the next time Jason was injured. They’d eaten soup and watched shitty TV and slept awkwardly on the couch.

It had been the start of everything, really.

Now Dick was dead. 

He turned to go, not willing to face the ghosts tonight.

As he reached for the windowsill, his wound tore further, causing him to hiss in pain as it began to leak blood down his arm.

Looks like he was staying after all. 

He sighed in resignation and locked the window instead.

The med kit was a little low on supplies, another testament to the last time Jason had crashed here. He’d meant to burn this place after Dick had shown up, not wanting Batman to be able to track him down so easily, but somehow he’d never gotten around to it. 

He stitched up the wound on his arm, wrapping it in bandages to protect it as he slept.

The bed was another unpleasant surprise. He’d left before Dick, that long ago morning, and Dick had done as he usually did, namely, left the bed rumpled and mussed, as if he had just gotten up. 

There was still a lump in the bed where Dick had lain, probably pillows that had gotten stuck under the covers. 

Jason pulled the comforter back.

He would deny it to his dying day, but the shriek that tore from his throat at the sight of the body in the bed was decidedly girlish. 

His only defense was that Dick’s scream was equally high-pitched.

Dick.

Dick.

“Dick?!?”

“Jason.” Dick looked startled, blinking against the light from the window.

“Are you… how the fuck… Dick… what… you’re ALIVE?”

“Uh.” Dick scrambled into a sitting position. “Yeah, Jay, sorry, I need to…”

Jason decided he was done listening. 

He took a step forward and engulfed Dick in a hug, squeezing the acrobat tight to his chest and taking a deep breath for the first time since he’d received the call so many months ago.

Dick went silent instantly, his arms sneaking around Jason’s waist and holding on for dear life. 

“I’m sorry, Jason, I wanted…”

“Shut the fuck up, Dickhead.” Jason choked out. “I don’t give a damn about the how or why. You’re alive. Dickie…” He pressed his lips to the dark head bowed against him, closing his eyes against the sting of tears. 

“Jay.” Dick was crying now too. Jason had no idea what had happened since he’d last seen Dick, but the acrobat was definitively thinner than the last time Jason had held him. He looked tired too, worn down in a way very similar to when Bruce had been thought dead and Dick had had to shoulder the world for nearly a year. 

“Shh, Dickie.” Jason soothed, rubbing slow circles against Dick’s back. “I’m here. You’re… fuck, you’re here too.” He lost the battle against his own emotions. “It’s okay. It’s okay now.”

For a moment they just held each other, weathering the storm, and then Dick tugged Jason towards him. Jason went willingly, climbing onto the bed without losing his hold on the other man. 

They curled up chest to chest, legs and arms tangled so it was hard to tell where one of them ended and the next began. 

“Was it the Lazarus Pit?” Jason asked finally.

Dick stiffened in his hold. “No.”

“You don’t… you don’t look like you just came back. Was it more like Bruce? Were you trapped somewhere?”

“Not exactly.”

“Dick, what happened? How long have you been back?” And ‘why didn’t you come find me earlier’, Jason wouldn’t ask. 

“I was dead.” Dick started.

“Yeah…”

“For a few minutes, at least.”

Jason pulled away. “What?”

Dick wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Luthor stopped my heart. There was a bomb…”

“I know.” Jason interrupted impatiently. “Skip to the part where you came back to life.”

“It was a pill, some kind of drug. Once I was free, he gave me a shot to restart my heart.” Dick finished.

“A few minutes.” Jason felt faint. “Where have you been since then? It’s been months.”

“I know.” Dick said miserably. “I know, and I was going to tell you, I knew you’d be furious, but I wanted to see you first, it’s been so long and I missed you so much Jay, so much…”

Jason pulled Dick back into his arms, tucking the slighter man into his shoulder and holding on tight.

“I’m not going to pretend I’m not hurt Dick. But I’m sure whatever happened, you had a reason. And regardless, Dickie, I’m so, so happy you’re alive. We can deal with everything else later.”

“I didn’t want to, Jay. Bruce…”

“Shh. Don’t ruin the moment, Dickhead.”

Dick snorted. “I missed you Jay.” 

“Shit Dickie.” Jason tightened his hold. “I missed you too. Don’t… don’t ever pull something like that again, okay? Thinking you were dead… that was some painful shit, okay?” 

Dick nodded against him. “Yeah. I’m here Jay. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Never again.” Jason said fervently.

He could feel the smile against his shoulder. “Yeah. Never again.”

Jason pulled back far enough to see Dick’s eyes, bright blue in the faint city light. “Never again.” He repeated once more.

They sealed the bargain with a kiss.

They would have to deal with the real world tomorrow, but for tonight, Jason held his sleeping lover in their bed, just watching him breathe and thanking whatever luck Batman lived by that Dick had been returned to him. 

Even death couldn’t part them.


End file.
